


marionette strings

by maketea



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Pining, Swearing, enemies au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:28:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28437648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maketea/pseuds/maketea
Summary: ladybug didn't smile often. not in front of chat noir, at least.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 25
Kudos: 151





	marionette strings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [therealjanebingley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/therealjanebingley/gifts).
  * Inspired by [like poles of a magnet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28244052) by [maketea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maketea/pseuds/maketea). 



> gifted to therealjanebingley because they asked if i'd be writing chat noir's pov in 'like poles of a magnet' - i hadn't planned for there to be a chapter in his pov there, butttt it inspired me too much to not at least write a cheeky little one shot nwn
> 
> this is set sometime before the events of 'like poles of a magnet' ! i WOULD suggest reading that fic before this but it's long lol so the info you need to get this is that chat noir has been teamed up with hawk moth since getting his miraculous, forcing him to fight ladybug.

Chat Noir could learn to enjoy the taste of his own blood if it meant Ladybug would touch him again.

Being punched hurt like a bitch, though, especially when it was her. She always threw her whole arm into it, the entirety of her exhaustion and rage shooting through her muscles where it all narrowed into concentrated power in each of her knuckles.

He swallowed his blood, cheek throbbing, and dared to look up.

She had her jaw clenched and brow pulled low. The laceration on her own cheek — not done by him, of course, for he could never raise his hand against Ladybug — welled up.

"What, you raring to go again?" she spat. "Didn't get enough the first time round? Go fuck yourself."

Chat Noir took in a deep breath. He inhaled her — the sweat, the blood, the acidity of her voice. His stomach coiled around something hot, until it became imperative for him to haul himself up and away from her. 

He had to stop doing this. One day Father would catch him loitering around after battle, and then what would he do? 'Ladybug aka your nemesis is painfully attractive' didn't sound like an excuse that'd garner much sympathy. And his father wasn't exactly familiar with sympathy in the first place. 

He had to get out of there fast.

Chat Noir extended his baton and leapt up. He landed on the rooftop with a bang, hunched over, heaving for some much-needed oxygen. 

Her eyes seared through his memory. Hot and blazed and shredding him apart.

Her hatred was intoxicating. He lapped up the taste of her lashing tongue and fist on his cheek and the determination that fogged up her surroundings like perfume. At first it had hurt — all that fire was sure to burn through an unprepared heart. He'd hardly been as jaded, back then, so unarmoured with his naïveté. He was a good person made to do bad things — why couldn't anyone see that?

But then he grew, and her fire no longer burned as much as it gave him a ray of hope, because Ladybug was living, breathing, swearing and spitting and punching evidence that there were still people out there who would fight against the bad. That, even if Chat Noir couldn't, Ladybug would.

If what Plagg had told him was right, the Ladybug and Black Cat were made to be partners. Even if the marionette strings attached to his arms and legs and voicebox meant he couldn't stand beside her, at least he knew she would right whatever he was forced to wrong. In a way, they really  _ were  _ partners. 

Laughter bubbled from the street behind him. Chat Noir turned around.

Ladybug was knelt in front of Enzo (Chat Noir always remembered akuma victims' names) while he wiped tears from his eyes and giggled at something she had said. He reached up with a little hand and touched the cut on her cheek. Her face twitched, but she held her smile with practiced determination.

She didn't smile often. Not in front of Chat Noir, at least. The first smile she'd ever graced him with was a sardonic twist of the mouth — right before threatening to kick his ass. He still thought it was beautiful.

But as Enzo chatted to her, the only tears left on his face being the residue caught on his lashes, he caught a glimpse of the kind of smiles she could muster. No, not muster, for it hardly seemed forced — the kind of smiles she could give into. Melt into. Allow herself to have.

He allowed himself one, too, as he watched her, cheek throbbing.

But then her gaze met his and her smile dropped, and, if only out of obligation, his did, too. She got to her feet, a protective hand on Enzo's shoulder, and her expression distorted, darkness polluting the sugar-sweet smile she'd just worn and sharpening her like a razor blade.

Her sweat and blood and acidity seeped back into his nose. An unpleasant concoction, but an addictive one, just because it was hers.

He took one last look at her mean face, thought about how much he wanted to kiss it, then left.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: rosekasa


End file.
